Presented with no apologies to Frank Isola

There can only be one.

As a Very Serious Sports Man, I know this to be true. That’s what sports teaches us. You play all year to be the one. That’s what sports are about. Heck, sports are singular. There is only one sport, and it is the sport that I cover.

I bring this up because Julie Ertz played in a game with implications for her participation in the next World Cup and her husband was nowhere to be found.

Wikipedia tells me his name is Zach. Five minutes after this column gets published, angry fans of the “National Football League,” a competition for an activity based solely in the United States, will probably tweet at me that it was the semifinals of his niche sport at the same time as the national team match.

Regional sport semifinal or international match carrying World Cup roster implications? It’s not a complicated question.

You know the answer. I know the answer. The only person who does not know the answer is Zach Ertz.

Again: There can only be one.

I get that Zach wants to have his own career. Who doesn’t? But his game just isn’t an international hit. At some point you have to face facts. We let him play his sport in college. College is where we allow for these fanciful dreams.

It is not, after all, possible for two adults with careers that require travel to just go about their business. I had to make a similar decision as a young reporter, and despite seeing that Sandy is very happy with kids on my hourly Facebook searches, I have no regrets. None whatsoever.

Anyhow. Where were we?

Oh, yes, right: If your partner is a world-class athlete, you have to accept that it’s not all about you.

There can only be one.

Carli Lloyd’s husband also works in sports and you wouldn’t see him trying to get away with this.

Also why don’t we now call him Zach Johnston? Wait, that’s actually a smart question.

Follow David on Twitter @DavidSRudin.